Englishman, Irishman and Scotsman Walk into a Blog…

8th August 2017

It’s still summer, it’s still raining, and if you’ve not been to a get-together, shindig, or garden party, I’ve got some tips that might aid you in having a reasonable time.

Firstly, or most obviously, take some light waterproofing with you. I know you’ll look up at the skies before you leave and think you’re safe. You might even throw your cardigan back onto your clothes chair. That’s fine, but if you live on the same island that I do, you gotta know that you should know better than that. I didn’t last weekend and that ended up being no-one else’s fault but mine. I’m not suggesting that you should arrive in a full fisherman’s outfit; if you can park close, leave them in the boot. Otherwise tuck them into your bum bag and take a big breath. You are about to garden party.

It’s easy to be nervous going in; you’ll have had a lot of strong coffee already so you’re twitchy. Don’t sweat it though; people will just think that you’re body popping, that some kind of bewitched party manimal has just entered the arena. If you can, take that reaction with you and get stuck in with the light conversation. It doesn’t matter to go looking for the hosts first, they’ll just be overjoyed to see you chatting away with faint family members. You’re happy too, you can see out of the corner of the conversation that you’re having that there’s a few kegs that have been cracked and are ready to go. Proper glasses are laid out as well, not plastics. You become excited, but hold on to your beans. Early hours at a party are for putting the effort in, you’ll get your space at a quiet table later on. Go be happy and interested in others for now. Use infant relatives as an excuse to have a boogie on the laminated garden dance floor if you must, whatever it takes to follow your caffeine rush for the first hour.

You’re feeling good, right? Yeah that’s right…! And you’ve been talking like you didn’t even realise! Well done you! Now last to the keg gets fagged!

Ah, so you’ve got your beer, maybe you’re thinking of smoking a Café Crème and looking about, hoping you might be young, free or single. Maybe you’re all three, in which case, well done you. If like me though you are none of those things, you best flick that Café Crème into the breeze because it’s impressing no-one.

Oh yes… the breeze has been picking up in the absence of your attention. Fuck it you think, it never rains on a party. Quite lovely sentiment, but quite wrong.

Keep thinking good thoughts though, cause there’s an aunt who’s second removed from your last aunties dissolved marriage (or something), and she’s keen as mustard to invade the body space you tend to keep from people. Panicked glances aren’t going to help you wriggle out of this one, and saying that you need to go top up your beer when it’s more than half full will only raise her giant eyebrow. She moves in close, too close, and we’ll move along a good half an hour.

It’s raining now. In fact it’s ramming it down, but you’ve drifted to a covered area. There will be a few of these, just be careful not to choose one too close to the dance tent; that tabernacle of activity is getting busy now. At this point you may or may not want to get involved in that; it’ll depend on how much you think your dancing improves with ale, or how much space your hair is going to need when its gets into an episode on the dance floor.

Stay where you are, son; you came in corduroy’s and they crease something terrible by midnight.

So what now? You can’t sit there all night can you? No you can’t, you’ve been drinking and you’re going to have to find somewhere secluded for urination. It’s after dark but you can’t use that as an excuse to just stand up, turn about and flow all over the shrub that finally decided it does know how to flower after all. Go find a canal. I was at a garden party last weekend and that’s what I did. It was fabulous and all the other men doing the same agreed. Next party that I host I’m going to make clear that someone bring their own canal.

For corn, for country; for jewels and swine…
J W Bowe xx

P.S! Anna urges me to point out that I should publicly say thank you to the hosts for last week’s garden party. She right, it was bangin! To those of you who know who you are, many thanks and double thumbs up.

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If you enjoyed this blog, and you’re impatient for something else to read, feel free to bunch up close to a free sample chapter from JW Bowe’s debut novel, The Meifod Claw, which is available now at Amazon, iTunes and on various other international eReaders.

You can also double up your sampling by following this link to the forthcoming fictional autobiography of The Meifod Claw’s wheelchair-in-chief, Derek Gainsborough. His life and apologies will be released next year under the sail of The Brine in Me.

JW Bowe can also be unearthed on YouTube and in various other ways through the Serious Biscuits homepage. Scroll down for further links, action and disclaimers.

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